


Promise of Happiness

by BizarreAmy



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Blame Tumblr, I Tried, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BizarreAmy/pseuds/BizarreAmy
Summary: A young Elrond thinks Maedhros needs to get married in order to be happy again. He then volunteers himself.So here, have their 'wedding'. Inspired by a fanart on Tumblr.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Elros Tar-Minyatur & Maglor | Makalaurë, Elrond Peredhel & Maedhros | Maitimo, Maedhros | Maitimo & Maglor | Makalaurë
Comments: 11
Kudos: 64





	Promise of Happiness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dusty_Old_Books](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Old_Books/gifts).



> Not betaed, mistakes are mine.
> 
> The fanart can be found at: https://idahlrillion.tumblr.com/post/145570681182/maglor-fondly-shares-childhood-stories-of-elrond

“Why are you sad?”

Maedhros blinked to focus back into the world around him as the words registered with his mind. He looked to the side to find one of the twin brats eyeing him curiously. “I’m not sad,” he replied.

“Then why are you grumpy?” asked Elrond in return, tilting his head to the side like the son of a bird he was.

“I’m not grumpy either,” he answered, keeping his irritation in check. And though he will never admit it, Maedhros loved the twins just as much as Maglor, but truly, they could be a nuisance sometimes. Like now.

The tiny 9-year-old furrowed his brows, “But you always make that face when you’re sad or grumpy. So you must be one of those.”

Maedhros frowned, “What face?”

Elrond reached up to pull at his nose, and Maedhros was so surprised that he didn’t even flinch. “This face. Your nose goes all scrunchy and funny when you’re sad or grumpy.”

“He’s right brother,” Maglor commented from his right. “Your nose does look funny. Whatever has upset you now?”

An exasperated sigh escaped Maedhros’ lips before he narrowed his eyes at his smirking brother. “Do I need a reason to be upset when I’m surrounded by you lot?”

“Ah. I understand now,” Maglor replied, nodding solemnly. Then he turned to address Elrond, “It’s his age. He’s getting old… even for an elf.”

Elros piped up then, pausing in gulping down his lunch, “And old means grouchy?”

“I’m neither old nor grouchy,” Maedhros said, leaning back in his chair while internally debating if putting his head on his hand would support his words or negate them. But espying Maglor’s side-eye, he thought that slouching was enough toeing the line.

Yet ignoring his words, Maglor spoke, “Not necessarily, Elros. But it is true sometimes, for people who are alone in the world with nothing but their cantankerous disposition to keep them company.”

“But Maedhros is not alone,” Elros argued, his voice going high as it was wont to when he got excited. “He has us with him!”

“I think by ‘alone’ your adar meant I’m not married yet,” Maedhros remarked, glaring at the bard, “Which he would do well to remember is none of his concern.”

Maglor had the audacity to laugh at that, “Why, brother mine. I am but a humble servant, whose greatest concern is his liege lord’s happiness.”

“Marriage does not ensure happiness. You, of all people, should know, Káno.” The instant the testy words left his mouth, Maedhros regretted them. Rare were the times when Maglor talked about the wife he had left behind in Aman. And to remind him of his broken marriage was cruel indeed. 'I’m sorry,’ he sent through ósanwë, gently prodding at the walls Maglor had pulled up in his mind, the same ones being reflected in his sharp face. But Maglor refused to meet his eyes or accept his intrusion into his mind.

“Celon looked happy when he wed,” Elrond interjected, oblivious to the tension between the brothers.

Maedhros glanced at the child, wondering if gagging kidnapped children was allowed. No one could stop him really, but Maglor would be upset. Well, more upset. So he replied as calmly as he could, “Yes, well. People usually are.”

Elrond perked up, craning his head out in another reminder of his avian heritage. “So you too would be happy if you wed?”

No wonder they’d turned to kinslaying if their kin were this irksome. His annoyance must have shown on his face because Elrond shrunk back as if stuck and Maedhros grew even more vexed at the guilt he felt then. Yet clenching his fist tightly to tamp down on his temper, he softened his face. Which was a feat in itself when you had a marred face like his was. But before he could speak, Maglor cut in.

“Of course, he would be happy!” the bard said, a glint of retribution visible in his eyes. “The only hurdle is that there is no one to marry him.” At that, Maedhros wondered if fratricide would be any worse than kinslaying. Once a kinslayer, always a kinslayer yes?

“I will marry him!” Elrond declared, nodding solemnly with all the gravitas of an elfling with a missing tooth.

Maedhros grew alarmed, “No, you will not.”

At the same time, Maglor grinned and declared - in a much stronger voice than Maedhros’, effectively drowning out his words - “Yes! What an excellent idea!”

“Káno, please,” Maedhros beseeched softly, not above begging if he had too. Eru knows how many times Maglor had made him swallow his pride. “He’s a toddler, for Nienna’s sake!”

“I’m nine!” came the familiar protest.

“Yes, elflings of nine years are still a toddler,” Maedhros replied with an arched brow, “And they are not to be wed. Certainly not to me.”

Elros huffed and remarked in a long-suffering voice, “But we’re not elflings. So nine years is very old!”

Maedhros’ heart lurched at the reminder of the twins’ mortality. What fate awaited the children then? Were they destined to die before he did? _'Not if you do something about it,’_ intruded that harsh voice of his demons into his thoughts, which he tried to stamp out once again. But Maglor must have sensed something, for his mind opened back up and an inquisitive whisper brushed his mind. And Maedhros readily surrendered to his brother’s warmth, seeking refuge from the tormentors within his own mind. Maglor was forced to bear his mind’s weight when he let go and through it all, he didn’t even flinch as he became Maedhros’ grounding force once more. It was moments like this when Maedhros wondered why he had been born as the eldest and not Maglor, for his brother certainly had a unique strength that he himself lacked.

“Elros is right,” the other twin said, bringing the Fëanorions out of their minds. “Nine is very big.”

At the unintended innuendo spoken with such innocence, Maglor couldn’t hold back his laugh, “For men, maybe.”

Maedhros subtly jabbed his brother in the ribs, then set about disabusing the twins of their ridiculous notions, “You’re still children. And you, Elrond, are not fit to wed at present.”

“But…” Elrond’s lip wobbled as his eyes watered, “It’s only because you do not wish to wed me! Am I so bad?”

‘Curse children and their polarised sense of the world!’ Maedhros thought as he tried to come up with a fix for his mistake. How to make the little one understand that marriage was no whim to be indulged? “Elrond, this is not about you.”

“Then why!?” was the tearful reply.

“Marry him, Nelyo, if he wishes to,” Maglor interjected, smiling down at the peredhel. “He only wants to make you happy. Don’t you, penneth?”

Elrond’s expression brightened, “Yes!”

Maglor reached out to ruffle his hair, “That is a sentiment you and I share, onya. And since this would be a wedding, you will be happy too, yes?”

“Everyone is happy at weddings!” Elros answered instead, sharing in the joy his twin was already feeling.

“Well, it’s decided then,” Maglor declared chirpily, clapping his hands once. Then he turned to Maedhros, “Unless you would object to young Elrond’s happiness, brother?”

Maedhros was sure that his eyes must have been nothing but two glinting slits as he glared at his scheming brother. That damn bard knew he had him cornered and there was no way to refuse without having a crying peredhel and his angry twin at hand. And knowing Maglor, they would be his problem to deal with on his own - a nightmare surely. So no, refusing wasn’t an option. “If Elrond wishes it, then I would be honoured.”

The twins cheered at that, jumping up and down like the trio of rabbits they had adopted as their own. All five of them were a pain in Maedhros’ stump. _'But you love them,’_ Maglor sent. And Maedhros startled at the answer as he hadn’t realised he had shared his own thought. 'Get out of my head, Káno!’

Maglor waggled his eyebrows at him before turning to direct the twins, “Now boys. There’s a wedding tonight! What are you doing here? Off you go. Get dressed in your finest, Elrond! Today’s your day, after all.”

“What about me?” Elros asked, his hurt at being sidelined shining through despite his best efforts.

“Ah, Elros. I entrust you the most important responsibility in a wedding - that of the minister. Are you willing to perform this duty?” At the eager nod, Maglor continued, “You will be the one presiding over the wedding ceremony, so you must dress in hues of silver and gold. Hurry now. Go!”

“Yes, Adar,” the twins chorused and dashed away towards the room they shared, whispering urgently to each other.

“Satisfied now?” Maedhros asked, his tone peeved.

“Oh very,” Maglor replied and his voice was so smug that Maedhros was reminded of Curufin. “Just wait. You’ll love this.”

  
And as usual, Maglor was right.

The impromptu wedding was set up that night in the Hall with the handful of their household joining them under the glow of the strung up lamps and the aroma of the small feast laid out on the tables hanging around. When the twins turned up with Maglor, Maedhros actually felt a spark of happiness in his heart when he saw the smiles on the faces of his remaining family. Perhaps peace wasn’t so elusive after all.

As the trio made their way towards where he stood beside the dais, Maglor said something to Elrond which had the child looking up to meet Maedhros’ eyes. The elfling, dressed in amethyst velvet, had the nerve to bat his eyelashes at him and then to promptly lowering his eyes - all while blushing furiously. Those brats. Maglor started laughing at the face Maedhros was no doubt making. If his brother didn’t let up, he was sure it’d be a funeral feast they’d have instead of a wedding one.

“You look fetching, my lord,” Maglor commented as they reached him at last, a smile still clinging to his lips.

“And you look troublesome,” Maedhros bit back, fiddling with the cuff around his stump. He’d chosen a charcoal tunic with his red cloak. Was it too maudlin? Is that why Maglor made it a point to compliment him?

Maglor batted his hand away from the sleeve and simultaneously pushed Elrond forward, “You shouldn’t be looking at me, but your lawful husband-to-be here!”

He finally gave in to the urge to roll his eyes then. Were they really going through with this farce? Surely his brother had things well in hand? But what exactly did this 'wedding’ entail? Maedhros hated not knowing. He should’ve been in on the planning from the start.

“Suilad, Maedhros!” Elrond greeted and for a child of Luthien’s descent, he did radiate grace in that moment.

But before he could return the greeting, Elros tried to clear his throat in a bad imitation of his adoptive father. “We need to get started now, Elrond. This is no time for pleasantries!”

“Oh right. Yes, minister!”

Mollified, Elros arranged his silver robe around himself before striding up to stand at the dais.“Good people!” He shouted in his high voice, standing on tiptoes to appear taller. “We are gathered here today to witness these two souls join in matrimony.”

At that, Elrond came up to stand by his side. Maedhros barely held back his smile at the drama of it all. Maglor had trained his brats well. Looking around, he saw the few people that were attending the feast - most loyal of their followers - all sharing grins and laughs at the play they were putting up. And well, that made it all worth it for Maedhros.

“Lord Maglor, as kin to both the grooms, do you give your blessing?” Elros asked the bard, a solemnity colouring his tone.

Maglor stepped up, “I give my blessings.” He then took Elrond’s right hand and joined it with Maedhros’ left, giving their clasped hands a firm pat. Winking at Maedhros, he left to take his place at the front of the crowd of onlookers.

“Very well,” Elros declared. “Now, Elrond, do you promise to love Maedhros forever?”

The smile at Elrond’s face then could have out-shined the Silmarils themselves. And his ecstatic “I do!” in reply hit Maedhros like a Balrog’s whip in the gut. How could the notion of marrying him bring such joy to the child? This was wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this, real or not. What if his doom caught this innocent child in its clutches? No. No, he will not.

’ _Trust me, Nelyo_ ,’ Maglor reassured him, and Maedhros bowed his head at the sudden overwhelming love he received from him. ’ _He’s happy and that is what matters.’_ Maedhros couldn’t really argue with that. And if he took away the child’s happiness now, who is to say he will ever see much of it in the future? Nothing was certain in Arda. Joy the least of all.

“Do you, Maedhros, promise to love Elrond forever?”

Maedhros looked down at Elrond then, and in a teary voice, answered, “I do. And I also promise to protect him and keep him happy. Him and his brother. For as long as I’m able to.”

And in a move that shocked him, Elrond reached up to touch his face, “That will be enough. But can you also promise to be happy yourself?”

A lone tear did escape his eye then, but Elrond was quick to brush it away. The empathy of the child was astounding to Maedhros. How could he forgive all his sins? How could he ever show his people’s murderer any kindness? That alone showed that Maedhros will never be worthy of Elrond - even of marrying him in a fake ceremony. But to deny him this would be a greater sin, so he replied, “I promise. For your sake.”

“Thank you,” Elrond said and tugging him down, placed a kiss on his scarred cheek.

Elros interrupted the tender moment with a sigh, “I guess that means you are wed now. Even though the kiss was supposed to be _after_ I declared you married, Elrond!”

“It’s my wedding. I can do what I like!”

“Not if there are rules to follow-”

And the twins went off, bickering as was their wont. But through it all, Elrond never left Maedhros’ side. Not when they ate, not when they received gifts, nor even when Maglor sang in their honour and all around them people danced. Elrond stayed at his side always - a living symbol of the Oath Maedhros had never broken and the promises he must keep now. Yet only one would bring him happiness. And unlike Maedhros previously believed, it was actually the 'marriage’ that was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated!


End file.
